Swear on the Styx
by BlackVelvetBand
Summary: When Percy is struck by a strange illness, Annabeth must travel across country, to try and repair their damaged relationship before it's too late. But Aphrodite's been waiting years for a good tragic romance...EPILOGUE JUST ADDED!
1. An Impossible Possibility

A/N: Alright, so I know I said that I was going to stop writing fanfiction. Well, this little baby popped into my head over Christmas break and I had to start writing it. So please enjoy!

* * *

**Swear on the Styx  
By BlackVelvetBand**

**Chapter One:  
An Impossible Possibility**

The picture was following her. It was literally staring at her as she paced back and forth across the room, reciting facts for her test in Eastern European history class tomorrow. Annabeth lamented for the umpteenth time that she hadn't been able to get an override into the History of Ancient Civilization class.

Stupid professor. Stupid full class. Stupid liberal learning requirement.

STUPID picture.

Annabeth let out an inarticulate yell of frustration, smashing her palm down on the offending photograph, knocking the frame roughly into the laminate of her dorm room desk. She looked at the object, lying there forlornly, for a moment and was immediately struck with a pang of regret. She hurriedly lifted the frame back into position, making sure that she hadn't damaged it.

Annabeth glanced over her shoulder, grateful that her roommate wasn't around to see her mooning away over the same photograph. Again.

Annabeth lifted a finger, European history forgotten, and traced the delicate, shimmering shells that outlined the damn picture. She stared longingly at the sea-green eyes set in the smiling tan face of Percy Jackson, her best friend and current ex-boyfriend.

He had given her the frame as a gift for their two year anniversary as a couple, the summer before their senior year of high school. At the beginning of the summer, she'd gone with his family on vacation to the cabin at Montauk. Percy taken her diving to ocean floor and Percy's stepdad had snapped the picture as they had come out of the water. A complexly dry Percy was holding her high in the air, forcing her to look into the camera. Paul had closed in on their faces, expertly capturing the delight dancing in their eyes.

Annabeth banged her head against the desk. For a daughter of Athena, she could be pretty idiotic sometimes. Then again, this whole situation had been her mother's fault. But Annabeth knew that no one had forced her to actually heed Athena's advice.

_Why_ had she told Percy that they should see other people while they were in college? Better yet, why had she decided that she had to go to college in California? Annabeth had often heard the saying that one grows wiser with age. At this point, she heartily disagreed with the statement because her capacity for sane thought had obviously failed her at eighteen when she had sworn to herself at the ripe age of seventeen that she would relinquish Percy Jackson to no woman, monster, or goddess for that matter.

She still remembered exactly how the conversation went. Why was it that unpleasant memories tended to burn themselves on your inner eye so that they could pop up unbidden whenever they pleased?

- - -

_Percy swung their hands between them as they walked along the beach at Camp Half-Blood. It was past curfew, but neither one of them was worrying about being turned in. Half of their fellow campers were engaging in naughtier nocturnal activities. They had done this most of the summer anyway, most kids were too afraid to snitch on Percy for fear that he would do to them what he had done to Kronos. _

_Annabeth couldn't believe that it was their last night at camp. The next day, they would leave for college…on opposite ends of the country. _

_Annabeth swallowed heavily, mentally preparing herself for the conversation she was about to start. She glanced up at Percy as he walked next to her, the sea air gently blowing his hair around his familiar face. His eyes were the color of the depths of the ocean in the dim light. He glanced down at her and unleashed the genuine smile that always caused her heart to lurch pleasantly. Seeing Percy smile gave her the contented feeling of coming home at the end of a long day. Annabeth bit her lip and tried to steel herself against his charm._

"_Seaweed Brain-- Percy," Annabeth corrected herself, "we need to talk." She ceased to walk along side of him. Percy paused in his movement as well, turning to face her with a look of trepidation._

"_That never means anything good," Percy stated. He brushed a few windswept curls away from her face, uneasy due to Annabeth's use of his actual name. _

"_Percy, we're leaving for college tomorrow. On opposite coasts," Annabeth began a little stronger this time._

"_And whose fault is that?" Percy interjected with a poor attempt at humor. His grin died at her blunt reply._

"_It's mine." Annabeth looked up at him, her eyes hard. "We're going to be apart for months at a time." _

"_Come on, Annabeth. Don't remind me" Percy said, his voice edging on a plea. He took a step close to her and slipped his free hand around her waist. "Can't we just enjoy tonight, I don't want to think about it right now." _

"_Well, _I_ can't stop thinking about it," Annabeth snapped. She deliberately stepped of his embrace and turned to face the ocean. The sight did nothing but remind her of the boy behind her. It was like being surrounded by Percy. She tried to assure herself that she was making the right decision for both of them. Percy would thank her later. _

_Annabeth took a deep breath and begin the speech that she'd rehearsed lying in her bunk the night before. _

"_College is a stressful adjustment even for normal kids," she stated matter-of-factly. "I don't think that on top of sporadic monster attacks, all of our classes and everything else that comes along with college, we should add the stress of a long distance relationship. Statistics show that most high school couples don't last through the first semester without one of the partners cheating on the other—" _

"_Are you dumping me?" Percy steamrollered over her next comment. Annabeth smiled a sad smile as Percy finally understood where she was going. He was _such_ a Seaweed Brain. "You're dumping me because you think I'm going to cheat on you?" he reiterated incredulously. _

"_I think we should…take a break," Annabeth said miserably, turning around to face him. She immediately wished she hadn't as she saw the confusion and anguish in his eyes, illuminated under the light of the suddenly full moon. Annabeth prayed that Artemis wasn't providing the proper lighting so that their break-up could be broadcast on Hephaestus TV. _

"_I would have gone with you to California," Percy said. "I wanted to go with you" he amended quietly. Percy tried to step toward her again, but ran up against Annabeth's hand. She ignored the jolt of pain that ran up her arm as the curse of Achilles protected him from her block. It felt like she'd just fended off an approaching rhinoceros. _

"_You couldn't have afforded the out-of-state tuition Percy, and we both know it," Annabeth said gently, staring at the camp half-blood logo on his t-shirt.._

"_Then I would have worked two jobs or something." He ran an agitated hand through his black hair. It then came to melt against her cheek, guiding her face towards his eyes. Annabeth bit her lip, wondering if this was the last time she would feel his hands, tough with sword calluses, handle her face so gently. "I won't even look at the other girls," Percy promised encouragingly. _

"_But I want you to," Annabeth said, the intended conviction behind her voice ruined by the way it wavered. _

_Percy let out a nervous chuckle. "Excuse me?" _

_Annabeth covered his hand with her own. "Don't you ever wonder if…if this isn't the way it's supposed to be?" she queried softly, removing his hand from her face._

"_No," Percy declared bluntly. His grip on her hand tightened. _

"_I do," Annabeth said, letting her eyes drift to the ocean once again. "We keep saying that we want normal lives. But no normal kid spends their life with one person. The only way to know if it's meant to be is if we can't make a relationship work with other people." Percy dropped her arm as if she had just slapped him in the face._

"_Let me get this straight," Percy said, beginning to pace in agitation. "You want to break up with me, so you can date other guys, just to make sure that we're right for each other? That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard coming from you Annabeth." _

"_Why?" Annabeth demanded, kicking some of the sand that his steps had overturned back at him. She was starting to get aggravated that Percy was exhibiting his usual tendency for making things difficult. _

"_Because that might be what normal people do, Annabeth, but that's not what _we_ do. We aren't normal. Most kids our age don't have Greek gods for parents, run around with magic ballpoint pen-swords and enchanted Yankees hats. They don't take knife wounds for each other or bathe in rivers of death!" Behind them, the sound of the waves picked up, crashing on the shore. "Why don't we just track down the fates and coerce them into telling us if we were meant to be together. It's more our style anyway." _

"_Because, what I propose is actually possible," Annabeth rejoined. It's the wisest thing to do." Annabeth, stuck her chin in the air defiantly, a gesture that Percy usually found endearing but tonight it triggered something in his memory… a woman in jeans and a white blouse, threatening him…_

"_The _wisest_ thing to do?" Percy repeated, stepping closer to her. "Your Mom put you up to this didn't she? This was her brilliant idea, wasn't it?" He threw his hands up in the air. "I thought we agreed to stop listening to our parents years ago."_

"_I don't listen to my Mom unless I think she's right," Annabeth said with as much dignity as she could muster. Percy wheeled around once more to fix her with a disbelieving stare._

"_You think she's right?" he demanded. "This isn't right. This is right," Percy added, gesturing wildly between the two of them. He wrapped both arms around her waist as she attempted to duck around him. _

"_Put me down, you idiot," Annabeth stated, whacking him for good measure. She swore when her hand was met with the brick-like sensation that any violent assault on Percy rendered. "Put me down!"_

"_Not until you look me in the eye and tell me that this is what you really want," he countered, easily combating her valiant struggle to escape. _

_Annabeth stopped struggling and twisted in his embrace so that she was facing him. Percy lowered her slightly so that they were at eye level. "I really want this," Annabeth said stoically. _

"_I don't believe you," Percy said icily, dropping her unceremoniously to her feet. She landed with a squelsh on the suddenly soaked sand. The waves, propelled by Percy's anger, were pounding the beach so hard, the tide had reached their ankles. "But if it makes you happy…" he trailed off. "I guess it's over." Percy stuck his hands in his pockets and began to walk away from her farther down the beach. It took Annabeth a few mintues to recover from the shock of his sudden acceptance. _

"_Percy," she called out, sprinting to grab his arm. She clutched onto his arm with all the strength that years of training had given her. "You and me…even though we're not…We'll still be friends right?" she said, raising her eyes took look at him. Her heart thumped erratically in her chest. She had foolishly never considered that she might lose Percy forever by breaking up with him. Annabeth had not realized how accustomed she had become to having Percy in her life, the constant variable in a changing equation. _

_Percy looked down at her and gave her a small, wrenching smile. "Best friends," he said quietly. Annabeth let out the breath that she'd been suppressing and furiously wrapped her arms around him. _

"_I'll miss you, Seaweed Brain," she whispered, her fingers subconsciously stroked the small spot at the center of his back that anchored him to his mortal life. He shivered against her, burying his face in her hair._

"_I'll miss you too, Wise Girl," he replied. Annabeth bit back tears for the first time in years and her hand pressed harder against his back inducing another shiver. "Don't," Percy said quietly and Annabeth, who understood the effect her touch on that particular spot had on him, released her grip. She really didn't make anything easy for them, did she?_

"_Will you IM me every couple of days so I know you're alive?" Annabeth asked briskly, stepping out of his embrace. _

_Percy let out a harsh chuckle. "I don't think you need to worry about me," Percy stated, but nodded his head. "Yeah, I'll let you know." _

"_Thanks," Annabeth said, meeting his eyes.. _

"_Goodbye, Annabeth," he said after a moment. He bent down and pressed a kiss, as warm and gentle as a breeze off the water on her cheek. Then he was gone._

- - -

Annabeth plopped her head down on the cool surface of her desk, frowning in the wake of the memory's assault. She could have at least given him a goodbye kiss worth remembering. Gods.

Here she was alone in her dorm room studying for a test in a subject she didn't want to take when she could have been in a dorm room on the other side of the country, studying with Percy, who would have kissed her every time she answered a question correctly.

Because, if she was honest by herself, Annabeth had been single for six months now, and the only thing she did was compare other boys to Percy. And Percy always won. And every fiber of her being resonated with the incontestable truth that he always would.

Shit.

Annabeth glanced up as a strange light hit the back of her eyelids, causing the darkness to burst into a kaleidoscope of brilliant colors. She blinked her eyes open, surprised when the small decorative fountain on the corner of her desk was glowing with a misting rainbow. Tyson had assembled the rather unassuming contraption for her right after the war. It looked like a normal desk fountain but was powerful enough to produce enough mist to allow for Iris-messaging. Of course, she had used it ever since to keep in contact with Percy.

She smacked her head on the desk again before opening a drawer and rifling through it to find the drachma that the pleasant voice of the rainbow goddess was asking for. Annabeth frowned; she really wasn't in the mood to talk to Percy right now. Their conversations were always short and strained, but it gave her a sense of peace to know that he hadn't gotten himself into too much trouble since she'd been away. Annabeth took a quick look at the time; it was almost one, late for Percy to be calling. He was usually in bed by eleven-thirty since the Styx took a toll on his energy.

Annabeth dropped the drachma into the fountain and politely asked the goddess to deliver the message. Annabeth blinked when the face that swam into view wasn't Percy's, but Grover's.

"Grover?" Annabeth said, scooting her chair closer to the fountain, shielding it from view in case her roommate returned soon. "How are you?" Annabeth hadn't heard much from Grover since he had started touring the wild, spreading the word of Pan's last message. "How's the work going?"

"Annabeth," Grover said, his voice almost a bleat. "Thank the gods." Grover glanced over his shoulder. She listened, thinking she could hear voices in the other room…and sobbing.

"Grover, what's going on? What's wrong?" she demanded. "Where are you?"

She heard a crunching sound as Grover nervously crushed a tin can and raised it to his lips to chew. "I'm at Montauk," he replied around a hunk of metal. "Mrs. Jackson called me. It's Percy."

"What's wrong with him?" Annabeth demanded rising to her feet. Her chair hit her bedpost with a clatter as it fell to the floor.

"Annabeth," Grover bleated mournfully, "Percy's dying."

"That's not possible," Annabeth said, staring at Grover's flickering image in the mist. But the unchecked anxiety etched into Grover's face spoke otherwise.

* * *

A/N: Review, or Persephone will turn you all into dandelions!

On a side note, for those of you who read our Harry Potter story, Points in the Right Direction, Debbie and I have not given up and plan to update as soon as possible.


	2. An Unwelcome Gift

**Swear on the Styx  
****Chapter 2: A Unwelcome Gift**

"That's not possible," Annabeth repeated dumbly, staring at Grover's flickering image in the fountain's mist. "He's invulnerable. Did someone hit his Achilles spot?" she demanded.

"No," Grover shook his shaggy head. "We don't know what happened. One day his roommate called, saying he found Percy passed out on the floor. His mom came and picked him up before they tried to take him to the hospital."

Annabeth had to admire Mrs. Jackson's capacity for logical thought in spite of the fact that she must have been going out of her mind with worry. It wasn't easy to explain to doctors why Percy's skin would completely demolish anything they tried to stick into it.

"Didn't you take him to Chiron?" Annabeth ploughed on, a tinge of desperation in her tone. If Chiron didn't know what was wrong with him, who would?

"He tried, but nothing really worked. Nectar helps but not for long. We're scared to give him anymore in case he combusts." Grover ripped off another hunk of the can in nervous agitation. "Annabeth," he began over the noise of crunching aluminum. He paused suddenly, glancing over his shoulder again to where Annabeth guessed Percy's mom must be.

Grover lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper. "To be honest, I don't know how much longer Percy's going to last. I think that's why he asked us to bring him here." Grover looked at her imploringly. "He's been asking for you in his sleep."

Annabeth looked at Grover for a moment before her eyes drifted to the photograph in the sea shell frame. Less than a second later, she was wrenching open her bottom desk drawer. She drew out her emergency knapsack, celestial knife, and cap of invisibility.

"I don't know what happened between you guys," Grover was in the middle of saying awkwardly when Annabeth came into sight again.

"Save your breath, Goat boy," she said, swinging the pack onto her shoulder. "I'm on my way."

- - -

Grover released the button on the sink's sprayer attachment, ending the connection. He turned to face the sofa in the cabin's minute living room where Mrs. Jackson-Blofis sat, face buried in her hands. Her husband had his arm around her, stroking her shoulder soothingly. "Annabeth's coming," Grover announced with a hopeful smile.

"Thank the gods," Sally exhaled tearfully. She restored her face to her hands, quite a feat considering her rather protruding stomach made reaching her elbows to her knees difficult.

"How's she getting here?" Paul looked up from consoling his pregnant wife.

"Err," Grover replied. They hadn't even discussed transportation, "She didn't say. But it's Annabeth. I'm sure she'll figure something out." Paul nodded, rising from the sofa and moving toward the kitchen. He motioned with a swift jerk of his head for Grover to follow.

"Can't the gods do anything to help?" Paul asked, once they were out of earshot. He surveyed the satyr over his shoulder as he grabbed the kettle from the shelf and began filling it with water to make tea for his wife.

"They're not allowed to directly interfere," Grover explained, realizing for the first time how out of the loop Paul was on a lot of this stuff. It hadn't seemed important to explain much in detail once everything had settled down after the war.

Grover elaborated in response to Paul's quirked brow. "For example, they can give gifts and help to heroes, but they can never transport them directly to where they need to go or tell them what they're supposed to do. That's why they're always so cryptic and vague about things."

Paul plopped two tea bags in chipped mugs. "Then what good is having a god as a parent?" he asked heavily.

"Most of the time," Grover responded honestly, "it's no good at all."

"I just wish someone could help him," Paul muttered, his forehead scrunched in worry over his stepson.

As if on cue, a rather peppy-sounding knock sounded on the door. "Who the hell visits at this hour?" Paul demanded of the air.

Grover sniffed the same air that Paul had just questioned, his eyes misting over as a delicious-smelling perfume wafted to his nostrils. Paul eyed Grover strangely as he moved to answer the door. Grover held out a hand to stop him. "You may want to let Mrs. Jackson—Blofis," he corrected himself, "get that."

As they entered the living room, Sally was already on her feet, her fingers closed around the door handle. "Brace yourself," Grover said. It was meant to come out as a warning but it ended up being more of a dreamy sigh.

Paul stared transfixed as the door opened with a dull creak, a sound which didn't do justice to the figure contained within its frame. Positively glowing in the late night gloom was…another Sally. Well, it looked almost exactly like her, if Sally was dressed to go to a Hollywood premier in a shimmering red satin gown, not pregnant, and staring at Paul like he was a piece of meat.

"Ah, feel the love here!" the woman in the doorway proclaimed in a voice that sounded like an old-time starlet. "I could just stand here and soak it up all day."

She fixed Sally with a wicked smile. "This one's a keeper, dear," she crooned. "His heart's so full of you, you're what he sees when he looks at me." The new Sally blinked expectantly at the real one. "Might we come in?"

"O-of course," Sally muttered, blinking furiously as if the woman's smile had blinded her. "I'm sorry, Lady Aphrodite but my son is…" she trailed off, unable to finish.

"Oh I know," Aphrodite said airily as she glided easily across the threshold in six-inch stilettos. "I've been following the story on Hephaestus TV all week. It's big news on Olympus. Poseidon's practically having kittens over the fact that he's not allowed to interfere." Aphrodite fixed Sally with a knowing stare. "Oh yes, he still cares a great deal about Percy…and about you. Would you care to relight that old torch, hmm?"

"I'm a happily married woman," Sally responded, blushing. Aphrodite made a tsk-ing sound with her tongue and checked her reflection in the dingy mirror above the fireplace.

"Never stopped _me_ before," the goddess responded flippantly. "Oh, well. I suppose I'll have to content myself with one love story at the moment." Satisfied with her appearance, Aphrodite reached out and clasped one of Sally's hands in her own. She wrapped her other perfectly manicured hand around Paul's. "Your son has such a wonderful heart," she said sympathetically. "He's done much to relieve my boredom these past few years and I feel guilty for using him so."

"Using him how?" Paul asked, surprised that he was able to form a coherent sentence in such close proximity to the intoxicating perfume.

"Oh, well… I _might_ have made his and Annabeth's relationship a little more difficult than it needed to be," Aphrodite responded coyly. "But I've come to speak to the little hero and present him with a humble gift," Aphrodite said placing a perfectly tanned palm against her heart dramatically.

"What sort of gift?" Sally said, her voice full of trepidation.

"Why her of course!" Aphrodite said with a trill of musical laugher. She flipped her perfectly coifed hair over her shoulder and glanced behind her. "Don't be shy dear, come in."

The goddess gestured impatiently to a small feminine figure in the doorway no one had noticed before. The girl had skin the color of moonshine and hair the color of freshly made caramel braided with strands of gold and flowers. She wore a pale dress, the color of twilight. Her eyes, large and dark in her face were filled with apprehension. She moved further into view, her attention straying to the back room, where every once and a while, Percy's hoarse voice would cry out. Paul thought it looked like the newcomer was restraining herself.

"Darling, introduce yourself," Aphrodite chided the smaller woman. The other woman glanced at Aphrodite before meeting the gazes of the others gathered in the room.

"I am Calypso," she supplied, her long fingers worrying the end of her braid. "I have come to help Percy in anyway I can."

Paul blinked at the waifish figure. "You mean the one from the Odyssey?"

"Of course the one from the Odyssey," Aphrodite said with a hint of exasperation. She didn't like that the attention in the room had strayed from her. "Percy and Calypso are old friends and since she has _eons_ of experience healing heroes, I thought it couldn't hurt to bring her along. Now, if you don't mind," Aphrodite said, fluttering her eyelashes dangerously, as if daring anyone to contradict her desires, "I'd like to speak to little Percy alone before I leave."

"Lady, Percy's been asleep since this afternoon, I don't know if it's wise to wake him," Sally said lightly, reaching out to place a hand on the goddesses arm. It was a brave gesture that only a protective mother would dare perform without thought. Aphrodite patted her hand consolingly.

"Oh, he'll be _fine_," she said soothingly. "Besides, I know he'll want to hear this." With that, Aphrodite swept out of the room leaving Percy's parents, Grover, and the former imprisoned goddess to wrestle with an awkward silence.

- - -

Aphrodite surveyed the figure ensnared in layers of blankets. The young hero's face was scrunched up in concern or pain and he let out a strangled cry. Aphrodite was moved with pity, for really, the goddess of love had a definite soft spot Percy Jackson. She sat next to him, smoothing his hair back from his brow which was beaded in sweat. "There now, Percy," she cooed. "It's time to wake up."

Percy's eyes flew open with a wild, hunted look his hand reaching automatically to the ballpoint pen sitting on the bedside table. Aphrodite caught his hand in hers, stroking her fingers skillfully across the skin. She smiled at the thought of how handsome he would be in a few years.

Percy sagged against the pillows as if the last few seconds of movement had drained him of his last reserve of strength. "Annabeth?" he asked, awed and confused.

"No, silly boy," Aphrodite corrected him. "Don't you recognize your friend Aphrodite?" She leant closer to him, bringing herself into the center of his line of sight. "I've come to visit you."

"Why? My lady," he added as an afterthought. Aphrodite snapped her fingers and a bejeweled martini glass filled with golden liquid appeared in her hand.

"I heard a nasty rumor that you had one foot in Hades and I simply _can't_ have that. Drink," the goddess commanded, propping Percy's head up with one hand and tilting the glass to his lips with the other.

"Why can't you have that?" Percy queried, his voice noticeably stronger after he had drained the glass.

"Oh, you and your questions," the goddess sighed. "I suppose it's because I have grown incredibly fond of you Percy." She smiled down at him beatifically, stroking one finger along his jaw line. "You love with all your heart but you're still _so_ clueless. Besides, your love story isn't over yet and I'd hate to she it cut short."

Percy scowled up at her from his pillows. "I thought you loved tragic endings."

Aphrodite laughed airily. "I do love tragic love stories. But your dying just to _die_ is just so unfulfilling."

"Let me guess, my death ruins all those big plans you talked about years ago," Percy quipped mordantly. Aphrodite gave a squeal of delight.

"You even remember what I said to you." Percy resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"You're hard to forget." He fought to ignore the goddess' enchanting misty eyes. It didn't really help that she currently bore a resemblance to Annabeth.

Percy struggled to lift himself into a sitting position, wincing in pain as the mattress brushed the small of his back, causing excruciating pain to burst up his spine like a firecracker. "No offense, but could you get to the point? I don't think I'll be able to stay awake much longer."

The goddess huffed indignantly, resembling an irritated swan. "I'll forgive you because you're ill. I'm actually here to apologize to you, Percy," Aphrodite said with a small sniffle, encasing one of his hands between her own. "You know those big plans, I referred to? Well, I went a bit overboard with them this past summer and things didn't turn out as I expected." She pressed his hand to her chest, a single diamond tear snaking down her perfect cheek.

"I don't understand. What happened this summer?" Percy paused for a moment, as if realizing something. "You mean Annabeth dumping me?" The goddess nodded tearfully.

"It was me, Percy," the goddess confessed, another perfect tear falling just for good measure. "It's my fault. I might have let it slip to Athena that you and Annabeth were getting serious. I had hoped that Athena was going to forbid Annabeth to see you, then you would both revolt against the will of a god resulting in an epic—"

"Tragic love story?" Percy finished for her.

"Or something like that," Aphrodite said meekly. She settled Percy's hand in her lap, her thumb stroking over the back of his hand in rhythmic motions. "But the love you have for Annabeth is so exquisite. How could I just let it sit there and exist when it has such potential?"

Percy met the goddess' gaze. It was not an easy thing to do as her eyes, stormy gray at the moment, reminded him painfully of the one person he was without. "I think my story is tragic enough," he stated bitterly. "I'm supposed to be invulnerable, but here I am…dying…without her." He closed his eyes hard. "Just do me a favor, Aphrodite. Please just cancel any big plans you have for Annabeth."

"Oh Percy," the goddess sighed. "You're so _cute_. Thinking only of her happiness when you're on death's doorstep. But I have good news for you." The goddess bent forward, so that her lips brushed the shell of Percy's ear when she spoke. "I've brought you a present." She leant back so she could observe the delightful false hope in his dull eyes.

"I really must be on my way, I'm already late for a date, but I'll send your present in now." She pecked Percy's cheek which suddenly flooded with color. "You still blush," Aphrodite remarked with a small squeal. "Don't forget to send me a prayer of thanks later to tell me how much you love it."

The goddess rose to her feet in a rustle of red satin and sparkles. "Goodbye for now, Percy" she smiled and blew him a kiss before sweeping out of the room on her deathtrap heels. Straining to hear, Percy made out the murmur of conversation out in the living room, a sound like wind chimes and his stepfather's low wolf-whistle. The goddess of love must have made her exit.

Percy's heavy eyes shifted to the door when the aged wood let out a quiet creak of protest. A small female figure stepped softly into the room. She gracefully ran the distance between them, kneeling next to the bed. With great effort, Percy rolled onto his side to see her face better, convinced he was dreaming. Her long, elegant fingers came up to rest gently on his hand.

She whispered his name as if it were the most sacred word in all the languages she knew.

"Calypso," Percy murmured. "Did I fall back asleep?" The goddess smiled her timeless smile, eyes glittering in the dark.

"No my hero," she replied quietly. "The fates have shown me a kindness I dared not expect. We meet again."

"But I was hoping…" Percy began to say, but trailed off wincing as the agony burned through him once more. Calypso's warm palm rested against his forehead. He allowed his eyelids to drift closed as the pain dulled at her touch.

"Sleep, Percy. While you dream, I will work to make you well again," she urged gently. The last thing Percy recalled was her sweet voice singing, before he was swept into dreams of a moonlit garden, pearl-colored sand, caramel braids, and golden curls.

- - -

Out in the living room, Percy's parents and Grover stared dumbstruck at door to Percy's room the goddess of love had just stood. Grover groaned and sunk into a chair. "This is bad."

"She was only trying to help," Paul defended, his tone reasonable. "What could be so bad about that?" he patted Grover on the shoulder in a consolatory manner.

"Aphrodite never just helps," Grover explained, looking up at Percy's parents. "She always has an ulterior motive. This is _sooo_ bad," he bleated.

"But isn't Calypso some type of sorceress?" Paul asked as he helped his wife to sit on the sofa. "Couldn't she help Percy?"

"Yeah, help Percy get into a lot of trouble with Annabeth, who happens to be on her way here," Grover replied, picking up a coaster and starting to chew on the corkboard anxiously.

"I don't understand," Sally murmured, confused. "But if Calypso can heal Percy…"

Paul muttered something about putting the kettle back on, his forehead scrunched up deep in thought. He was attempting to wrack his brains for everything he knew about Calypso from his knowledge of Greek mythology.

"Grover," Paul called through to the living room. "Wasn't Calypso," he lowered his voice slightly in case the goddess in question could hear, "bound on some mystical island for all eternity where heroes would wash up out of the blue?" he dumped the previous batch of tea, now stone cold, down the sink while Grover made a sound in the affirmative.

"That used to be the case sir, but she was pardoned along with the rest of the minor gods following the war."

Paul meandered back into the living room, waiting for the kettle to whistle. "So the only way that Percy could have met her before now…"

He trailed off as he noticed his wife shiver in the cool air blowing through the drafty cabin. Paul grabbed the afghan from the back of Grover's chair and wrapped it around Sally's shoulders. He paused in mid-motion as the teakettle whistled shrilly, his eyes wide as if sound had prompted some sort of epiphany.

Ignoring the sound, Paul crossed the room to peer in the slightly ajar door to the room where Calypso was singing her melodic healing songs while resting her hand over his step-son's chest.

Paul swore as he jogged to pour the tea. "You weren't kidding about Aphrodite's gifts being a double-edged, were you?" Paul grimaced as he placed a mug into Sally's hands.

"This isn't the first time Percy's met Calypso, is it?" Sally asked, her eyes narrowed in Grover's direction.

"Well, he never really said _exactly_ where he was that one time. But that flower that you grow on the windowsill of your apartment? It's said to grow under Calypso's care."

"Did Annabeth know about Percy's visit to Calypso's island?" Sally asked flatly.

Grover made a helpless gesture and began to chew on another coaster. "She's Annabeth. I just assumed she guessed."

Paul let out another long, low whistle. "Sally, our son is screwed."

* * *

A/N: Reviews motivate me to update chapters sooner rather than later!


	3. A Way to Go

**Swear on the Styx****  
Chapter Three: A Way to Go**

Annabeth Chase had a major problem. In an uncharacteristic display, she had rashly left her dorm room in the middle of the night with absolutely no idea how she was going to get from California to New York. Better yet, she was without a way to get there quickly.

She shook her head in self disgust and cursed the ability Percy had to make her forget precious logic in the face of the overwhelming emotion he filled her with. Annabeth took off down the street anyway, eastward, for it gave her something to do while she thought.

She could call her father and ask for money to catch a plane to New York, but that would set her back hours. She wasn't sure what was wrong with Percy or how long he had to live, but that damn Seaweed Brain was not going to die without saying goodbye. Annabeth bit her lip and forced her thoughts away from the dismal prospect. Think, she told herself firmly, but all she could see was a scared face with the most brilliant green eyes she had ever seen staring up at her from the base of Half-Blood Hill, clutching a minotaur horn…a figure on a bridge, riptide flashing lethaly in his calloused hand…him smiling at her surrounded by their own private underwater haven…

Annabeth raised her suddenly watery eyes to the heavens, and prayed to every god she could think of, major and minor, for help. She even added an extra plea to Hades asking him to prolong Percy's life. She wasn't above slipping in a none-too-subtle reminder that Percy was among Nico's only true friends.

When she opened her eyes, it was still early morning in the city and she still lacked transportation. With nothing better to do and for once, no particular plan in mind, Annabeth continued to walk…and suddenly someone was walking beside her. Well, jogging to be precise.

"In a hurry to get somewhere, miss?" the stranger asked her, matching the pace of his jog to her stride. Annabeth gave him her best icy glare, but this only seemed to encourage the stranger as he made another attempt at conversation. "Isn't it dangerous for a pretty girl like yourself to be walking all alone, unarmed at night?"

Annabeth sighed. She really didn't feel like having to beat up some perverted mortal tonight. "I _am_ armed," she growled. "And I don't need to be armed to kick your—"

"Ah, ah," the man interrupted her, "don't hurt the messenger." Annabeth stopped walking and turned to study the man. He was wearing running shorts and black t-shirt that was emblazoned with the words, 'I visited Hades and all I got was this crummy t-shirt.' If that wasn't enough of a giveaway, his handsome elven features and impish grin were unmistakably familiar.

"Lord Hermes, I'm so sorry," Annabeth stammered. "I didn't expect…"

"To see me?" Hermes finished for her. "But I thought you wanted my help? I was in the Los Angeles delivering a message when I happened to hear your request." He made a noncommittal gesture. "I thought I'd pay a visit." He grinned at her, and Annabeth was surprised that Luke only briefly crossed her mind.

"I do want your help." Annabeth returned quickly. "I need to get to New York. My lord, it's Percy he's…not feeling well," she finished lamely.

Hermes nodded sympathetically, fishing a silver cell phone out of the pocket of his baggy shorts. "I know," he replied, his usually playful tone soft and understanding. He snapped the phone shut after a moment of scrolling down the front screen which was glowing electric blue with text message notifications. When he glanced up at her again, his eyes were serious.

"I want to help you," Hermes said, all trace of mischief gone from his face. "I may be the god of thieves, Annabeth, but I repay debts that are worthy." He met her gaze, his eyes piercing and full of regret. "I owe you and Percy much for what you did for Olympus, and for Luke in the end."

"I'm sorry," Annabeth said quietly, the old regret filling her. She brushed a piece of hair behind her ear.

"You've already apologized, and there's nothing to be sorry for," Hermes responded briskly, his devious smile sliding into place effortlessly in an attempt to brush off the previous awkward moment.

"You and Percy are favorites on Olympus, and the TV programming would lose something without you," the god remarked flippantly, enjoying Annabeth's look of horror.

"Your break-up was broadcast live to Hephaestus TV," the god continued. "I, of course, was on Percy's side," Hermes held up a hand to silence Annabeth's ireful protest. "Seeing as you're running short of time, I took the liberty of sending a message to a certain Nico DiAngelo who was visiting his father in the underworld. I understand he's quite good at shadow travel."

There was a loud scream reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard that blared suddenly from the direction of Hermes pocket. The messenger god removed his cell phone which was emitting billowing black smoke. "Oooh that must be Hades. I borrowed this t-shirt without asking."

Hermes hit the silence button on the phone, but that did nothing to stem its smoldering. "I should be on my way, lots of things to deliver. Mr. DiAngelo will be here any minute."

He gave Annabeth a sly wink. "Good luck, Annabeth," he said as he began to resume his jog. "My money's on you!" he called over his shoulder before disappearing in a brilliant burst of golden light. Annabeth covered her eyes so not to see the god's true form as he disappeared.

"Thank you," she whispered in the god's wake. Hermes had been gone for only a few seconds, when the hairs on the back of her neck stood up in warning. She drew her knife, wishing she had enough time to fish her Yankees cap out of her bag.

A footstep scraped the asphalt behind her. Annabeth wheeled, grabbing her attacker by the throat, her bronze knife aimed at his jugular.

"It's nice to see you too, Annabeth" the figure drawled.

Relieved, Annabeth released the pale throat she was holding. "You know better than to do the creepy shadow thing, Nico," she chastised the perpetually black-clad son of Hades.

"Hey," Nico protested, "I gave you a footstep." He paused for a moment. "I came as soon as I got Hermes' message. Do you think he's going to be… okay?"

Annabeth shrugged, unable to respond.

"Thank you for this," she murmured, wrapping her arms around him gratefully. Nico returned the gesture in the manner of one unaccustomed to being touched often.

"Hey, no problem, you got me out from under Persephone's foot for a few days." The son of Hades grimaced and Annabeth recalled Percy once telling her that the goddess of springtime had once threatened to turn her step-son into a dandelion.

"You ready to go?" Nico asked. He turned her so that she was facing him before wrapping both arms around her waist. He slowly pulled her closer so that she was pressed up against him. Annabeth raised an accusing eyebrow at the lack of space between them.

"What?" Nico said with a slight smirk. "You haven't been Percy's girl for a while now," he teased lightly. "You'll thank me in a minute anyway. Hold on," Nico advised.

Scowling, Ananbeth wrapped her arms around Nico's neck, resisting the urge to strangle him because he seemed to be enjoying goading her a bit too much.

"Just shut up and take me to Percy," she snapped.

"Whatever you say," Nico grinned. Then they were swallowed by darkness.

- - -

Annabeth had never been happier to be standing on a beach in her whole life. She really shouldn't have opened her eyes back in Ohio, the nausea still hadn't passed completely yet. She was also glad that Nico had picked a good tactical location to land. The sand allowed her a soft surface to sink into when Nico swayed and fell onto her like a black sack of bricks.

"Woah," Annabeth gasped as she staggered under the younger demigod. "You weigh a ton," she said, gratified when Nico opened bleary eyes and glared at her. "Are you okay?"

Nico brushed off her concern and sat up in the sand, blinking to ward off the dizziness that had overcome him. "I'm fine. I've just never shadowed traveled with anyone before." He gave her a small, weary smile.

"Come on." Annabeth urged him to his feet. She wrapped one arm around his waist to steady him when he swayed on the spot. "Let's go see Percy."

- - -

By the time Annabeth and Nico had navigated the sand dunes and arrived at the door of the Jackson's cabin, dawn was just breaking over the horizon. The cabin door flew open as they approached. A familiar form stood silhouetted in the doorframe. If the goat legs hadn't given him away, the customary rasta cap would have.

"Annabeth! Nico!" Grover bleated as he ran forward to help Annabeth drag Nico over the worn threshold. "How did you get here so fast?" Grover asked as they deposited Nico on the floor in front of the couch. The younger demigod let his head fall back onto the cushions behind him, drawing in deep breaths.

"I took the DiAngelo express," Annabeth explained. "That's why he's so worn out." Grover offered to get them some water. Annabeth dug through her knapsack until she found an ambrosia cookie which she tossed to Nico. Throwing her knapsack down on the armchair, Annabeth scanned the doors that led to the cabin's two small bedrooms. She was itching to just barge in and see Percy, but she was more than a little frightened of what state she would find him in.

The minute Grover returned bearing two glasses, the door to the bedroom on the right opened and Percy's mother and step-father walked out. They were disheveled and their clothes were rumpled as if they hadn't bothered to change before falling asleep.

"Annabeth," Sally's voice broke the minute she laid eyes on her son's longtime friend, and she ran over to embrace Annabeth as best she could with her swollen stomach. "Thank you so much for coming."

Paul and Grover exchanged a look that was not missed by Nico who was munching on his ambrosia square thoughtfully. Sally (who had always had a strong urge to mother the brooding son of Hades) misinterpreted the look as him feeling left out and bent to kiss his forehead. "Thank you for bringing her, Nico," she added, and ruffled his hair.

"How's Percy?" Annabeth asked uncertainly. Sally's eyes lowered, brimming with tears.

"We've tried everything, but nothing seems to be working. Nectar helps for a little while but he can barely stay awake, let alone stand. He's been calling for you in his sleep," Sally added with a small, knowing smile.

"Can…Can I see him?" Annabeth bit her lip as her voice wavered. Sally nodded and took her by the hand, leading her toward the closed door.

"Um, darling," Paul began, stepping in front of the entrance to Percy's room. "Annabeth and Nico just traveled a long way. Maybe we should give them something to eat and let them clean up a bit first. Besides, it sounds like Percy's resting right now."

"I think that's an excellent idea," Grover seconded, grabbing Annabeth's other hand and attempting to pull her toward the kitchen. "Mrs. Jackson― sorry Blofis― makes excellent pancakes."

"I'm fine," Annabeth protested, wrenching her arm out of Grover's grip.

"Are you sure you're not hungry?" Paul pressed, stepping back toward the door slightly.

"What in Hades is going on?" Annabeth demanded. Her heart was seized with a sudden fear that Percy had already died and his parents were hoping to gently break the news to her over a pancake.

Ignoring Paul's spluttering excuses, Annabeth ducked around him, hitting the door with a little too much force. It creaked on its hinges, hitting the wall behind it with a ricocheting bang. Annabeth stared at the reclining figure in the bed, watched as the noise seemed to rouse him. Percy's eyes flew open, his hand barely making fumbling progress toward the bedside table where Riptide lay.

But it was not the noise that shocked Annabeth. What shocked Annabeth was the hand that caught Percy's and the smooth, liquid voice that warned him not to strain himself. But what was probably the most shocking of all was that Percy's head was propped up on a woman's lap. Her caramel hair fell around one side of his face like a protective curtain.

"Oh gods," Annabeth whispered as Percy squinted against the early morning light that fell through the grimy window of the cabin.

The green of his eyes broke over her like waves on the rocks. All it took was her name muttered weakly from his lips, and she was crashing and drowning.

It wasn't until her eyes met the strange woman's that she felt the pain.

- - -

Annabeth realized that everyone in the room was staring at her. "Hey," she said lamely, once she realized that Percy's gaze was the most intent.

Nico, who had finally roused himself enough to find out what the commotion was all about, peeked into the room. "Damn Jackson," he smirked, taking in the scene. "You really picked a good way to go." Nico winced as Grover's hoof connected with his foot.

There was a long awkward silence broken only by the gentle sound of trickling water as the woman dabbed at Percy's forehead with a white cloth.

Percy cleared his throat. "Can I talk to Annabeth for a minute?"

The crowd in the doorway followed Grover's lead and ran from the room like it was enchilada day at the cafeteria. The caramel-haired woman glanced between them before sliding out gently from the bed. She lay Percy's head back down on a stack of pillows which she fluffed.

"I must go fetch some more sea-water and some other things." She squeezed Percy's hand, causing him to flush and look meaningfully at Annabeth. "I shall return later, my hero."

Annabeth cocked an eyebrow and stared at Percy, waiting until the woman had left the room before she started to speak. "My hero?" she commented archly.

"What?" Percy said defensively, his voice hoarse. "I'm sure Calypso called Odysseus that when he washed up on her island too."

He placed his arms at his side and attempted to push himself into a sitting position, but gave up after his arms wouldn't stop shaking. Annabeth watched his struggle, unsure of what to do. Was it even her place anymore to help Percy? She wasn't so sure he had even wanted her to come. Maybe Mrs. Jackson had just read too much into his unconscious requests.

"So that's Calypso," Annabeth said after a moment, turning to stare out the window at the now sun-drenched sea. "She's…lovely." Percy reached out feebly, trying to take her hand and pull her down to sit on the bed but Annabeth easily sidestepped his attempt.

"Annabeth," Percy panted, staring up at her reproachfully, "give me a break."

"No, Percy," Annabeth said scornfully. "You give me a break. I rush all the way out here expecting you to be…"

"Dying?" Percy supplied unhelpfully.

"Yes, alright!" Annabeth spat. "Yet you're sitting here being waited on by some brunette bimbo." She knew she shouldn't be yelling at her best friend when he was on the verge of death, but the unexpected sight of seeing him in another woman's arms had rocked her. Annabeth tugged at her ponytail impatiently, making the tousled curls even wilder.

"Hey, I didn't ask her to come, okay?" Percy snapped back. "I also don't remember you asking me to sit around and wait for you!"

Pissed off by the unfairness of it all, Percy managed to push himself up in anger, only to let out short cry of pain. He collapsed onto his side, writhing in agony. Forgetting their argument, Annabeth ran over to him, wrapping her arms around him, steadying him.

"What is it?" Annabeth demanded, panicked as Percy, bent his torso around her knees

"Back," Percy managed to gasp. "It's where it all started." He twitched closer to her and Annabeth yanked the hem of his shirt up, leaning over to examine Percy's back. She swore more colorfully than a member of the Ares cabin.

"What is it?" Percy hand clenched her thigh painfully as another spasm rocked his weakened body.

"Your Achilles' spot," Annabeth explained, dumfounded. "It looks like it's eating your back."

She stared horrified at the small of Percy's back, where the spot that anchored him to the mortal world, usually the color of his skin, had turned a putrid black. Spreading from the small circle, like some sort of demented sun was a series of heavily bruised, rotting flesh.

Without thinking, Annabeth gently ran her finger over the epicenter of the inky hurricane. Percy made a strange noise, like a strangled moan mixed with a sob, and shuddered against her.

"Sorry," Annabeth apologized hurriedly, worried that she'd hurt him further. Percy shook his head against her knee.

"It feels good. Warm," he whispered. A heavy silence fell between them. Annabeth stared down at his pale face in the early morning sun. She drank in his image, unsure of what to say, so instead she merely brushed her fingers along his back wanting to bring Percy any bit of comfort that she could.

Eventually, spoke. "Wise Girl…" he began, staring blankly at the hole in the knee of her jeans, his dark lashes brushing the exposed skin. "Will you stay here the rest of the night?" he pleaded. "In case… I don't make it…" Annabeth bit her lip fighting back tears. She wondered if he couldn't tell that it was morning and the thought frightened her.

"Of course, Seaweed Brain," she replied softly, biting her lip. She had to be strong for him. Annabeth rose from his side. She took her ponytail holder out of her hair, releasing the blonde cascade of curls. She kicked off her tennis shoes and removed her hoodie before slipping under the covers on the opposite side of the bed. Percy rolled onto his back with a suppressed scream. Gently, Annabeth helped to roll him onto his side so that he was facing her. She adjusted her head on the pillow and forced herself to keep her hands to herself, unsure whether it was really her that Percy wanted.

"Annabeth?" Percy asked after a few moments without her touch, his voice alarmed. "Where are you?"

"I'm right here," she said, immediately gripping his hand. "Can't you see me?"

Percy shook his head, and the fear in his unfocused eyes was more terrifying to Annabeth than any monster she had ever faced.

"Do you want me to go get anyone?" she asked quietly, brushing the fringe out of his face.

"No." Percy bit his lip. "Annabeth," he breathed her name unsteadily. Unable to restrain herself any longer, she wrapped her other arm around Percy's back, gently placing her palm over his mortal spot.

"It's going to be okay, Seaweed Brain," she whispered. "We've survived a lot of stuff. I say our odds of survival when we're together are pretty good." Her heart surged at the small smile that flitted across Percy's face. Annabeth tightened her hold on Percy's hand as if that alone could prevent him from slipping away.

She closed her eyes and allowed herself to really feel for the first time in months. Annabeth had almost forgotten what it was like to touch Percy where his entire being was anchored to the world. She could feel his emotions come surging through her, multiplying her own. She felt his gratitude, the stifling fear, the small part of him that was resigned to die. But more than any of these, she felt the part of him that loved. She felt its fierceness and its depth. She only wished she was certain who he held that part of him for.

Percy brought their intertwined hands that lay on the pillow closer to him. Blindly, he placed a soft kiss where their palms joined. "Annabeth," Percy whispered, and Annabeth felt water on her hand and realized that he was crying. "I'm happy you're here."

"Me too, Seaweed Brain," she returned simply. She leant over to press a kiss to his cheek, her tears mingling with his. She closed her eyes and basked in the essence of her best friend that was flowing into her through her hand, praying to the gods that this wouldn't be the last time. "Me too."

* * *

A/N: So I totally blew off studying for a midterm in order to post this chapter, so please support my procrastination efforts by reviewing!


	4. Of Water and Fire

**Swear on the Styx  
****Chapter Four: Of Water and Fire**

Annabeth opened her eyes slowly. She blinked through the haze of sleep and for a few brief moments, she was certain she must be dreaming. She was lying on the double bed in cabin at Montauk, just like she had been hours ago when the sun was blazing in the sky.

Now, the moon shone through the dusty cabin window, falling at a perfect angle to light the sea green eyes staring at her. It took Annabeth, for all her intelligence, half a second to realize that the hand pressed against Percy's chest was rising up and down gently in time with his breath.

He was _breathing_.

Percy was still alive! In fact, he was more than just alive, he was grinning.

"You're not…," she began with no small amount of wonder.

"I know. Right?" Percy responded, sounding just as shocked and delighted.

Annabeth pushed herself into a sitting position and was surprised when Percy followed suit with all the ease of a healthy individual. Annabeth frowned at this fantastic, but unexplained medical dilemma. She gripped Percy's side and maneuvered him so she could see his back. Percy let out a small sound of indignation at her rough treatment.

"_Di immortales_," she breathed.

"What? How bad is it?" Percy asked, craning his head to look.

"How?" Annabeth spluttered, staring at the smooth tan skin of his back. She brushed her fingers experimentally over the miraculously clear skin. Percy no longer looked as if he had contracted a case of leprosy. Instead, the strange bruises had subsided until only the immediate area around Percy's mortal spot was affected.

"_What_?" Percy demanded heatedly. He quivered slightly as Annabeth continued to stroke the small of his back.

"Now it only looks like you have a tramp stamp instead of the plague," Annabeth informed him.

Sea green met stormy gray as they stared at each other for a moment, both sharing the same thought.

_Percy might live. _

Annabeth's stomach gave a loud, discontented rumble, breaking the moment.

"I think I'm going to get something to eat, and clean myself up" she said disgustedly after she caught a whiff of her breath. "Would you like anything?"

"I'll come with you," Percy said, making to get out of the bed.

"No," Annabeth said sternly, pushing him back down onto the mattress. "Don't push it, Seaweed Brain." She couldn't squelch the impulse to roll her eyes at his stupidity right after a miraculous recovery. "What do you want?"

Percy grinned up at her, eyes sparkling. "Water, lots of water. And I don't care what food." Annabeth nodded and left the room but not before glancing over her shoulder to make sure that this scene was real and not just some bizarre psychological reaction to her best friend's apparently imminent death.

She emerged into the living room, which was eerily silent for having four people crammed into such a small space. Everyone stared at her expectantly, waiting.

"Percy--" she began but was cut off when Sally Jackson burst into deafening tears on her husband's shoulder. She heard her sobbing things like "too young to die" and "my baby."

"Percy's asked for water. Lots of water and something to eat." Annabeth said quickly. "He's sitting up, too."

There was a pregnant pause as Annabeth's words sank in before Nico gave a laugh that was part disbelieving and part relieved. Grover let out a joyous whoop before tackling the son of Hades in a goat-hug. Annabeth smiled and watched as Sally stumbled to her feet and waddled her way in to see her son as fast as her swollen feet would carry her. Paul followed in her wake, leaving Annabeth to be crushed by Grover's second wave of hugs.

"I will fetch Percy his food and water," a small voice stated.

Annabeth turned to see Calypso standing in the corner. Annabeth had forgotten that the goddess was even there. The ball of relief and joy that had welled within her at Percy's surge of good health deflated quickly. Percy had someone else now. It wasn't like they were still dating.

"I'll make us some food," Nico said after an awkward interlude. He followed the goddess to the kitchen, his eyes watching her hips sway as she walked. Annabeth raised an eyebrow but refrained from commenting. Annabeth and Grover trailed Nico, both taking a seat at the small scrubbed kitchen table as they watched him rummage through the refrigerator.

Annabeth studiously tried to ignore Calypso as the goddess practically floated around the kitchen, preparing a small plate of fruit and ambrosia for Percy.

"Did you even ask if you could take their food?" Annabeth turned to Nico in an attempt to distract herself as Calypso left the room. "And since when have you learned to cook?"

"Mr. Blofis said to help myself to whatever I wanted. And I live alone. Meals just don't pop out of nowhere," Nico added mordantly. Annabeth had forgotten that Nico lived in a small one-bedroom apartment furnished by his father while he attended high school in the city.

"We're having grilled cheese," he declared, closing the refrigerator with his hip.

It was just totally weird, Annabeth thought, to watch Nico be so domestic. She had learned overtime that her friend wasn't all dark clothes and skulls and crossbones, but being served food by a son of Hades was…different.

"Thanks," she said a few minutes later when he slid a sandwich and a bowl of tomato soup in front of her. She dug in, famished.

"So what did you do?" Nico asked curiously. He put three cans of soda on the table and sat down to eat his own meal, surveying Annabeth expectantly. Grover, who was already done with his sandwich, moved on to munching the used soup can.

"What do you mean?" Annabeth asked, popping the tab off of her pop can. She smiled, relishing the smooth glide of Dr. Pepper down her throat. Soda was usually demigod contraband and was only to be enjoyed on rare occasions.

"Percy was dying last night Annabeth. I felt it," Nico said, pointing at her accusatorily with his half-eaten grilled cheese. "All of a sudden he's not."

"I didn't do anything," Annabeth said honestly. "And stop threatening me with your sandwich." Nico took a retaliatory bite out of said sandwich causing Annabeth to roll her eyes at him. It was almost like being back at camp.

"Maybe it was Calypso," Grover suggested. "She is supposed to have healed hundreds of heroes," the satyr explained with a shrug. He took a bite of his empty soda can and studiously avoided Annabeth's death glare at his mention of the goddess' name.

"Maybe," Nico acquiesced, but he didn't sound convinced.

"What?" Annabeth snapped when she noticed Nico observing her out of the corner of his eye.

"I was just wondering if you knew what anchored Percy to the world," he asked over his soda can. Annabeth stared at him for a moment, wondering what that had to do with anything.

"I'm not sure," Annabeth said, not meeting his dark gaze. She downed the rest of her soda and chucked the can to Grover for his culinary pleasure.

"I'm going to see if I can take a shower. You should consider it," Annabeth told Nico, "you smell like death." She dodged his jab to the ribs and cuffed him on the head as she went in search of Percy's mom. She was pleased to note that she had managed to wipe the knowing expression off of Nico's face.

She was not pleased to note that his question bothered her.

- - -

Annabeth buried her toes in the damp sand, satisfied when they gave the appropriate squishing sound. She continued to walk along the shoreline in front of the cabin, her damp hair making her shiver whenever the chilly fall wind blew by her. Annabeth huddled into the oversized hoodie that Mrs. Jackson had leant her while she washed her dirty clothes.

Percy's Mom seemed incredibly happy to keep busy taking care of her son and his guests, now that Percy didn't seem to be on the brink of death. Sally had nearly keeled over with joy when Percy had asked if he could take a shower. When Calypso had offered to bathe him, it had been the last straw for Annabeth. She had run out of the cabin as quickly as possible, her excuse being that she couldn't sit still any longer. No one had questioned her. It wasn't unusual for ADHD demigods to have trouble sitting still for significant durations of time.

Annabeth burrowed her nose into the collar of the sweatshirt and inhaled. The navy blue garment was obviously Percy's. It surrounded her with his scent as her eyes roved the rolling horizon in the darkness.

Annabeth started when she saw the leaping flames of a fire out of the corner of her vision. She turned, surveying the blaze, a few feet to her left, with trepidation. She was sure it hadn't been there when she had left the cabin. Who would be out here at three o'clock in the morning?

The fire sparked. Its hues of red and orange intermixed with the blue -violet flames that resulted from using driftwood for kindling. A hand of flame seemed to beckon her closer, and Annabeth approached almost as if she was in a trance.

She paused when she was just outside the radius of light, suddenly wondering what she had been thinking, approaching a stranger's fire in the middle of the night. She knew from years of experience that this could very well be a trap.

"Why would I want to set a trap for you?" a gentle voice asked.

Annabeth leapt back, drawing her knife out of the back pocket of her jeans, pointing its celestial bronze blade at the figure kneeling before the flames.

It was a girl about her age. She wore a long-sleeved dress the color of aged wood. Her long hair was braided simply and pulled away from her face. Her eyes, that mirrored the dancing flames behind her, regarded Annabeth.

"Please put away your weapon, Annabeth," she said politely, "I have never been one for fighting and I would not wish to harm one who helped to save my home."

Annabeth put away the knife quickly. "I'm sorry, Lady Hestia," she apologized hastily. "I didn't recognize you."

The goddess nodded, gesturing for Annabeth to have a seat beside her on a convenient log that had just appeared. "It is quite understandable. You have never seen me in this form. However, I thought this might be better for this conversation. I am aware that many find it difficult to seriously converse with a young girl."

The goddess took one of Annabeth's hands between hers and chuffed it between her own deliciously warm ones. "Are you warm enough dear?"

Annabeth nodded and glanced at their hands. It was strange to be sitting so close to a goddess, having her hand warmed as if they were best friends or close relatives. But what she found the strangest was the fact that Hestia had decided to pay her a visit. She had never heard of the goddess leaving Olympus.

"Why are you here?" Annabeth asked uncertainly, trying not to sound rude.

"I am goddess of the hearth and of the home," Hestia said with a small shrug. "I have come to discuss your home with you. And the state of your hearth is most concerning."

"What's wrong with my home? Is my family alright?" Annabeth asked, wondering what could be so serious as to have the goddess abandon her sacred post.

Hestia smiled, her warm ageless curl of lips, at Annabeth. The gesture made Annabeth feel incredibly young and stupid. "I don't have a way to make offerings at school," she protested lamely.

Hestia laughed, and it sounded like the crackle of shifting fire logs. "No, sweet one," the goddess assured her, "only one member of your family is in danger. And I perceive no disrespect in regards to your offerings. You do not wish to draw undue attention to yourself, which is understandable." The goddess patted her hand benignly. "Your family makes offerings on your behalf."

Annabeth simply blinked at the goddess who answered her question before she could give voice to it. "Your father offers tribute to the gods and asks to keep you safe. And Percy is most generous when it comes to his offerings."

Annabeth brushed a renegade curl away from her face, and glanced at her lap. The goddess' small hand was still placed over hers. She wished suddenly, fervently that the hand belonged to Percy. "And…what does Percy ask for?"

The goddess bent her head in order to peer into Annabeth's eyes. "Percy offers thanks to his father, as is fitting. Oftentimes, he offers a sacrifice to me and asks that I guard Pandora's jar well. Then he offers tribute to Athena and asks that you are safe and expresses his wish that you are happy."

The goddess reached up with a warm hand and passed it delicately over Annabeth's deeply furrowed brow. "Why does this concern you?"

Annabeth shook her head, freeing herself of the goddess touch. After all of the turmoil of the past twenty-four hours, Annabeth wasn't sure what to make of Hestia's information.

"I don't understand," she said, evading Hestia's question. "How are you here? What's wrong with my home?"

The goddess shook her head. "How like your mother you are, always wanting answers. I am here," she continued, pointing to the sea, "through the aid of Poseidon. When even the power of the sea failed to heal his favorite son, my brother used his power to transport the hearth of Olympus here for a short time, to the edge of his realm, in the hopes that I might save Percy."

"Do you know what's wrong with him, Lady Hestia?" Unable to sit still any longer, Annabeth shoved to her feet, pacing in front of the fire. "And how can I save him? He almost—"Annabeth cut herself off, unwilling to think of the possibility. The memory of his wide frightened eyes, his raw emotions seeping into her…

"You already suspect the answer. Young Nico certainly believes it as well." The goddess placed another log on the sweet-smelling pyre. Annabeth stared at Hestia, unable to quite comprehend the thoughts that were whirring in her head. The goddess prodded the fire again in an exaggerated manner as if giving Annabeth time to respond.

"It's true?" she breathed. Hestia looked up at her expectantly. "Percy's dying because of me?"

The goddess nodded sadly, rising to her feet. "You are what anchors him to this world. You have known this. Since he tied his life cord to another, it was believed that he would survive this life as long as you did." Hestia met Annabeth's eyes across the fire and the warmth in them did nothing to dispel the chill that had settled over Annabeth.

"Your separation has created great distance between you, not only in miles," the goddess continued slowly and deliberately as if desperate for Annabeth to understand her. "Percy feels that he is slowly losing what his most important, that which he cherishes beyond all else--what ties him to life. And the river slowly begins to consume him."

Annabeth sat abruptly on the sand and buried her face in her hands. _She_ was responsible for Percy's life. He had almost died because of her stupidity. And how was she supposed to keep him alive now that…

She turned and glanced at the house, where a slight female figure was silhouetted against the weathered glass. Someone _else_ could keep Percy alive, she thought bitterly.

Annabeth watched the brown folds of fabric pool onto the sand as Hestia knelt next to her. "Do not deceive yourself, Annabeth," she warned, tracing the direction of Annabeth's gaze. "How much longer do you plan to roam the world, homeless, your hearth cold? Soon you will be no more alive than Percy will."

"I have a home," Annabeth declared sourly, thinking of her family in San Francisco. "And Percy doesn't need me now, he has someone else… And it's my fault," she added miserably.

Percy had been right that day on the beach. They had decided from the beginning that their parents should have no say in their relationship, and she had let her desire for her mother's approval override her instinct. She hadn't paid attention to the smartest thing Percy had ever said.

"Do not blame yourself," Hestia said, patting her knee consolingly. "You are not the only hero to have been swayed by the gods. Your gift of wisdom fails in the face of your past wounds." Hestia brushed a rogue curl from Annabeth's face with one small, weathered finger.

"You ran away from home because deep down you were frightened that your happiness could not last. Percy has never betrayed you. This time it was you who left."

Annabeth blanched. She had known that leaving Percy had been a mistake for months now. But it was tough to have her shortcomings lain out in front of her like blueprints to a flawed building.

Hestia shook her head sadly. "My time here is short, Annabeth. You must listen to what I have to say without interruption." She grasped the sides of Annabeth's face in her hands, forcing her to stare into the flickering depths of her eyes.

"Home is not made by the type of roof we have over our head, or the architecture," the goddess added when Annabeth opened her mouth to protest. "Home is wherever we feel safe, and loved. Home is the people who make us feel that way. The most sacred fire is not the one I tend. It is the one inside you, the strength and warmth that home provides. The light which guides you back after every journey."

"Percy has been your home for many years," the goddess continued urgently. "He is the only person in your life who has never left once he entered it. When you are together your hearth burns so brightly, it puts even the mightiest sacrifice to shame."

The goddess smiled warmly and Annabeth was suddenly filled with a fierce, all-consuming hope. "You must remember that Percy has already decided what is most precious to him. It is now your turn."

With that, Hestia began to flicker and glow brightly. Annabeth had to turn her face away as the goddess morphed into her true from.

When she opened her eyes again, she was alone in the dark.

* * *

A/N: Well, I hoped you enjoyed the latest installment. If you ever want to find out how it ends, I'd review!

And for those of you who asked, I did very well on my midterm, thanks for caring :)


	5. Swearing the Way Home

A/N: Sorry for the long wait everyone, but I am in fact a student and I have responsibilities that needed to be taken care of. Thank you so much for sticking by the story despite the cliffy. Wish me well on my finals and I hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Swear on the Styx  
Chapter 5: Swearing the Way Home**

Percy padded his way into the living room looking uncomfortable despite the fact that he was clean, freshly shaved and wearing new sweats. The source of said discomfort was Calypso, who walked a mere step behind him. She was so close that the folds of her softly shimmering dress caressed Percy's ankles as he walked.

Nico turned from where he had been kneeling on the sofa, peering out into the early morning darkness with his usual air of brooding. The younger demigod almost laughed when he saw Percy's expression which clearly read 'Help!' but refrained because he didn't want to hurt Calypso's feelings.

Percy ran a hand through his rapidly drying hair, agitatedly glancing around the living room. He noticed Grover for the first time, who was curled up in a pile of blankets, one hoof sticking out. The satyr was snoring steadily.

"What are you looking at?" Percy asked Nico, moving toward the window.

"Just keeping an eye on Annabeth," Nico replied, positioning himself so that he blocked Percy's view. He didn't mention the fire or the appearance of the strange teenager on the beach. He was fairly certain it was Hestia, his favorite goddess, and he knew full well that Annabeth could hold her own until he got to her. But he was looking out anyway, just in case.

"She's still out there?" Percy demanded, obviously not confident that Nico was doing a good enough job ensuring Annabeth's safety.

"She can take care of herself," Nico replied with a raised eyebrow. "Don't even say it," the son of Hades snapped, temper peaking as Percy opened his mouth to insinuate that Nico was incapable of protecting Annabeth.

Percy scowled, but didn't respond. He knew that Nico viewed Annabeth almost as an older sister. He also knew that he shouldn't take out his anxiety on the poor kid who, in past years, had excelled at looking out for Annabeth in a fashion so subtle that most of the time she wasn't even aware it.

Percy sat down dejectedly in the sunken brown armchair across from the sofa. Calypso knelt on the floor beside his legs, looking every inch the adoring goddess kneeling at the feet of her god. Percy turned away from her uncomfortably, wishing that Annabeth would come inside. His back was starting to ache uncomfortably again and he really wasn't above using that as an excuse to have her touch him.

"I'm going out to get her," Percy declared, making to rise to his feet as Grover let out another bleating snore. Percy added a best friend who slept quietly to his rapidly growing list of wants.

"Percy," Calypso said softly, placing a creamy hand on his leg to prevent him from standing, "you should not exert yourself." Percy met her large pleading eyes framed by caramel waves and his stomach twisted uncomfortably. He really felt like the scum at the bottom of the ocean, staring into the perfect features he used to dwell on years ago. But she wasn't….And her hands were too soft on his leg, her arms missing the faint pink lines of battle scars.

"I'm fine," he said finally, wishing Nico would stop stealing glances at them. Calypso laid her head gently on his knee, oblivious to Percy's ramrod straight posture.

"You smell like the sea," Calypso murmured absentmindedly. "I used to detest the smell that characterized my prison until I met you."

Percy's scowl deepened and he added two more items to his mental wish list. The first was that Calypso would stop saying stuff like that, especially in public. And the second was for Nico to stop mouthing obvious things at him, like "You better hope Annabeth doesn't see this."

Percy had participated in too many battles by now, and heard more than one Annabeth Chase lecture on strategy to know when a preemptive strike was not only necessary but proper. Nico was right, Annabeth could not see this and Percy was hell bent on not blowing what could potentially be his last chance with her.

"Come on," Percy said, dislodging Calypso's head gently from his knee as he got up. He held out a hand and Calypso slipped hers into it gracefully, her eyes shining brighter than the moon over her old home. He stepped over the sleeping Grover and led the caramel-haired goddess into his small room.

- - -

The first thing that Percy noticed upon entering the room was that his mom had made the bed before she had gone to sleep.

Percy sagged onto the comforter. He dropped Calypso's hand, hoping she would get the message he was trying to convey without making him say it out loud. He winced as the movement jarred his sore back. He felt drained. It wasn't as bad as it had been the night before, but he desperately wanted water, sleep, and Annabeth, not in that particular order.

Calypso folded herself onto the mattress next to him, wrapping her arms around him and placing a feather-light kiss on his clenched jaw. She whispered his name so softly that it might have seemed like the rustling of the sea breeze through the open window if her lips hadn't been right next to his ear.

Percy cleared his throat awkwardly as the goddess tilted her face up to stare at him adoringly. "What are you doing?" Percy asked her, rather tactlessly.

Calypso withdrew slightly, her brow knitted. She brushed Percy's fringe away from his face, avoiding his gaze. "I had thought that you brought us here to be alone."

Warning bells, sirens, and fire alarms started ringing a cacophony of danger in Percy's head at the way she said, 'alone.'

"I did," Percy replied, wincing when he realized his mistake. Calypso smiled radiantly, her pale arms twining around him even more tightly, like predatory snakes. "To talk," Percy interjected loudly when Calypso's lips were suddenly a hair's breadth away from his. Percy resisted the urge to swear. He felt totally out of his league, trying to dodge the advances of a goddess who could move so fast it addled even his ADHD battle-honed mind.

Calypso sat back on her heels, her exultant air fading into one of confusion. "Of course. You must be tired," said with a forced smile. "Sometimes it is hard to remember how delicate the constitutions of mortals are."

Okay, so he had almost died, Percy admitted to himself. And he _was_ tired. But he was _not _delicate. He was the savior of Olympus, damn it! And this was wasting precious time.

He took a deep breath and braced himself for the onslaught that his words might provoke. "Calypso," he said as gently as possible, "I think Aphrodite might have… misled you when she brought you here."

There, he thought. A beginning so sensitive even Annabeth would have to approve…

"I came here to heal you, did I not?" Calypso returned firmly.

"Yes," Percy answered quickly, not wanting to insult a kind woman's motives. "But, I don't know if Aphrodite might have…hinted that you would get…" Percy trailed off, completely lost as to how to deliver his bad news.

"Yes, Aphrodite mentioned that I might receive your affections in return for nursing you back to health like I once did," Calyso smiled tightly, curling her arms around herself protectively, as Percy looked at her apologetically. "I take it I did not succeed," the goddess finished.

Percy shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely. There was a tense silence that spanned a set of minutes that seemed like hours, neither one knowing what to say.

Finally, Calypso rose to her feet, the folds of her dress dancing like waves to the floor. Framed in the soft silver glow of the moon, her caramel hair floating gently in the breeze from the window, she looked every bit of the majestic sorceress she was described as in the ancient epics.

"You were never really mine, were you?" Calypso asked, her melodic voice betraying her pain. "I held your fancy once, but not your heart."

Percy remembered in vivid detail their days together in Calypso's paradise prison. He thought briefly how different life would be if he could change his mind. Life with Calypso would be easy, carefree, and peaceful. He wouldn't have to fight for her mother's approval or listen to lectures on how stupid he had behaved. He wouldn't get dragged to famous monuments, or have someone to spar with every other day…

Life with Calypso would be _boring_.

Percy stood up behind her, feeling that it was the polite thing to do. "The fates really are cruel," she murmured glancing over her shoulder at him.

Percy shrugged, "I think Aphrodite did her job too well the first time. Though, she won't be too happy to hear it."

Calypso turned to face him, pearly tears trailing gracefully down her cheeks. "I'm sure there's a hero somewhere—"Percy began, but she cut him off.

"I would share you," the goddess said imploringly. "You will grow tired of her and I will be there to comfort you. I have all eternity to wait."

Percy had to consciously close his fallen jaw. "Erm…" he squirmed under her promising gaze, "I'm a one girl kind of guy." He scratched his neck uncomfortably. "And that's not fair to you."

"It was worth the attempt," the goddess, said sadly. She took a step closer to him and the moment seemed to stretch out forever. Everything stood out in vivid detail, the swish of her skirt, the color of her hair like fresh toffee in the light of the moon, and the smell of moon lace on her skin as she pressed her lips quickly to his cheek.

"I wish you well, Percy Jackson, most loyal of all heroes," she murmured against his skin. "Goodbye."

Percy closed his eyes and in a flash, she was gone.

- - -

"I'm going out to get her," Percy announced a few minutes later, stepping over the still inert Grover and striding purposely toward the cabin door.

"What happened to Calypso?" Nico asked, still on the sofa, peering out into the darkness.

"She left," he said shortly. Even for a Seaweed Brain like himself, it was hard to miss Nico's reaction. The younger demigod's face collapsed into what could only be called severe disappointment before he could school it back into its usual nonchalance.

Nico stretched himself out onto the sofa and closed his eyes, folding his hands over his chest in a rather funerary position. Percy wondered if he really slept like that. "Take a jacket," Nico commanded smugly as Percy reached the door.

"You don't get to tell me what to do," Percy replied, more than a little irritated. He'd had a stressful couple of days and Nico wasn't making it any better with his ridiculous superiority complex.

"Just take one. If your mom finds out I let you go outside without a jacket after you almost just died she might revoke my dinner invitations. And I really like your Mom's cooking." Nico opened one eye to glare pointedly at a sweatshirt that hung on a wooden peg behind Percy's head.

"Fine," Percy growled, yanking the garment off of the hook and pulling it roughly over his head. He then wrenched the door open and made his way out into the darkness. Annabeth was waiting.

- - -

Annabeth heard the quiet click of the door, and Percy's familiar voice making some sarcastic quip to Nico over his shoulder. It was something about how he 'might as well be a son of Hera for all of his crazy mothering tendencies.' Ananbeth sincerely hoped that her least favorite goddess was not choosing that moment to listen in.

She heard the soft sigh of shifting sand as Percy approached. He sat down beside her, leaving about a foot of space between them. He stretched his feet out, letting the icy water of the tide lap up over his toes. "Hey," he greeted softly.

She glanced at him. He didn't look as good as he had a few hours ago when he had awoken and she noted the look of relief on his face as the salt water washed over him. "You shouldn't be out here," she admonished, but the comment lacked its usual bite.

"You shouldn't be either," he responded blithely. "Besides, I wanted some salt-water." He wiggled his toes demonstratively, leaning back on his arms. He winced slightly at the motion.

"Why didn't you just have Calypso bring you some?" Annabeth asked, gesturing airily. She ran a hand through her wildly curling hair, trying to get the wind to blow it away from her face.

"That might be hard," Percy responded, flicking water up with his toe distractedly.

"Why?" Annabeth immediately countered, never one to resist finding out a piece of critical information. Percy's glimpsed her out of the corner of his eye and smirked. Annabeth's brow furrowed. She hated that he had her almost figured out after all these years.

"Because she's gone," Percy said, turning his head to face her. His sea green eyes fixed on hers in the darkness and Annabeth could almost swear that lightning, ten times more powerful than Zeus's, crackled in the distance between them.

"What a shame," Annabeth said feigning sincerity. "Why'd she leave so suddenly?"

Percy glanced at her quickly before looking at his feet. "I kind of told her…she wouldn't get what…what she came for." Annabeth hoped that Percy hadn't caught her sharp intake of breath as he struggled, in his usual Seaweed Brain way, to phrase something carefully. Hope, bright and as fierce as Hestia's flames, burst to life within her. Maybe she hadn't ruined everything…

"And what was that?" Annabeth asked quietly. She wondered why, when they were having what could be the most important conversation in the history of their relationship, neither one of them could look at the other.

"Don't make me say it Annabeth," Percy said shortly, obviously annoyed at having to pull the weight of the conversation. "You already know."

"And why couldn't you give her what she wanted?" Annabeth demanded more bravely than she felt, turning to stare at Percy in a way meant to illicit a response.

Percy sighed, a heavy sound that was fitting for one who has been through a lot of emotional trauma and almost died a few hours prior. "Really? Haven't I suffered enough without having to answer stupid questions you know the answers to?"

Annabeth shifted her fingers in the sand at her side nervously. She knew she deserved the last one and that she shouldn't have expected this to be so easy. Percy shifted his weight on his hands, which were resting behind him, and winced.

"Your back's bothering you again, isn't it?" Annabeth said after a moment. She decided not to address Percy's last comment, both to save her wounded pride and to bolster her quickly waning hope.

He paused in his movements uncomfortably, caught. "Yeah, it's not as bad though. Want to take a look?" Annabeth bit her lip. She did want to, first to make sure that he wasn't turning black and blue again and second to see his toned muscles. Not that she would ever tell him that.

She shook her head in response, curls tumbling in the breeze. "Not here," she murmured. "You don't know who's listening." Percy glanced quickly up at the paling sky and then at her. His eyes were half-pained, half-questioning.

Annabeth scooted over, closing the distance between them, so their legs and hips were pressed together. It was the only thing she could think of to do to ease Percy's discomfort without completely revealing his mortal spot to clever celestial minds. She wasn't going to give her mom any ideas.

"Thanks," he said quietly, nudging her playfully.

The dreadful awkward silence descended once more. It made Annabeth miss the days when silence between them had been companionable. Gods_,_ she thought, how badly had she messed things up? They couldn't even talk comfortably if one of them wasn't on death's door. And it didn't help anything that having him so close was driving her crazy.

"Why'd you break up with me?" Percy blurted out suddenly. Annabeth felt like she'd been punched in the gut. "I'll answer your question if you answer mine," he offered after a moment, dangling the lure of information she wanted in front of her. Annabeth took the bait, figuring she owed him a little humiliation.

"I…" she sucked in a breath and closed her eyes hard. She couldn't believe that she was going to admit this. "I was scared."

"Of me?" Percy said incredulously.

"Not exactly," she amended hastily. She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts before continuing. "Everyone who's ever been important to me has let me down at some point or they just left." Her hands wound the strings of his hoodie fitfully and she kept her eyes glued on them.

"I felt it was too perfect. We'd saved the world, I was the architect of the gods, and you…you were always there." She swallowed, trying to ignore the tingling sensation of his eyes locked on her. "I kept waiting for the day when I'd need you and you wouldn't be there. And when my mom came…she sort of talked me into being the first one to leave." She shrugged, feeling more helpless than she ever had in her whole life.

"So you didn't trust me," Percy said flatly. Through her peripheral vision, Annabeth saw the rigid tensing of his jaw muscle which always indicated he was upset.

"I do trust you. With my life," she replied insistently. "But you're not the first person I've trusted that way."

Percy chucked a handful of sand he had been playing with toward the surf angrily. "I'm not Luke," he said bitterly, making to move away from her.

Percy had been so sure that that ghost had been laid to rest. Yet, here she was telling him that the whole time they'd been together, she'd been carrying a torch for a dead guy?

Annabeth's hand shot out, gripping his knee. "I know," she said emphatically. "But I also lost Thalia _twice_ and then there was my dad. And you…" Her grip on his knee tightened, trying to communicate through touch what she was struggling to put into words. "You would have been the worst to lose."

"Why?" Percy demanded and Annabeth was taken aback by the sudden lack of distance between them. They must have shifted closer during their conversation without even realizing it. Her gaze shifted unconsciously to his lips. Really, he was not helping her have a very difficult conversation staring at her like that.

"Because you're the most important to me." He was _so_ incredibly close, mouth hovering over hers.

"I don't get it," he stated archly, breaking the moment.

"I figured that if I left first, it wouldn't hurt so badly." Annabeth grimaced. It had made so much sense at the time her mother had talked to her. Now, sitting next to Percy, warm and familiar, it seemed incredibly stupid.

"How's that working out for you?" Percy deadpanned, turning his head away.

"Not so great," Annabeth replied honestly. She wrapped her arms around her knees, burying her toes in the sand, bracing herself for anything he might say…

"It really does suck. Being left," Percy clarified softly after a moment. His hand, the hand she had studied so many times she could draw it from memory, came to pry hers away from her lap.

"I'm sorry," Annabeth whispered earnestly, praying he knew how deeply she meant it. Percy's leg shifted against hers as he withdrew his foot from the surf, placing his warm, dry skin next to hers. The fingers of the hand he held twined with hers and Annabeth thought she might burst with elation.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said firmly. Annabeth's racing brain caught his use of the present tense. Her heartbeat quickened, matching the suddenly erratic pounding of the waves on the shore. Percy must have been affecting the tide without knowing it.

"Answer my question now," she fought to keep her voice steady as Percy's hand came up to cup her neck, the warmth of the calloused palm seeming to heat the air around her.

"What was it again?" he teased lightly. Annabeth scowled.

"Why couldn't you give Calypso what she wanted?" she huffed. The hand on her neck gently tilted her head back so their faces were perfectly aligned once more.

"Because she isn't _you_, Annabeth."

The answer was so simple, so Percy. She couldn't remember why she had ever decided that spending life at a respectable distance from him had ever been a good idea.

He leaned forward, and this time, Annabeth was certain that he was going to kiss her. But he hovered uncertainly in the minute space between them.

"My back's a little better," he breathed. Annabeth resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Did she have to initiate everything in this relationship?

On second thought, maybe she'd better explain to him the situation because it might benefit him to understand that whether or not they became a couple again, she was going to have to be around a lot.

So, deciding it was her wisest course of action, she placed her lips right by his ear and whispered in a voice so barely audible that even Percy had trouble hearing it."You know when you bathed in the Styx?" Annabeth began. Percy nodded, his fringe brushing her forehead. "What is it that anchors you to the world?"

"I already told you," Percy said balefully. "That time at camp."

"Just checking, Annabeth murmured. "In that case…" she took a deep breath and launched into the theory she had learned from Hestia. She made the judicious decision to leave out the more embarrassing personal details and stuck to the facts.

When she finished, Annabeth drew away to survey Percy's furrowed brow.

"So I can't live…without you?" he summarized. He didn't really seem surprised at this revelation, Annabeth noted.

"Literally," she confirmed apologetically.

"Well that complicates things," Percy said, flopping down onto the sand. His gaze roved the twinkling starts and the silver moon, which had grown strangely fuller since he last looked at it.

"Not really," Annabeth corrected, leaning on her elbow to gaze down at him. She studied his face for a moment, as if trying to decide the best way to phrase something. She brushed some nonexistent sand off of his chest, fulfilling an irrepressible desire just to touch him.

"Take me back, Seaweed Brain," she declared, finally taking the direct approach she had always favored between them. Percy quirked an eyebrow.

"Was that a request or a demand?" he asked, placing a hand over hers.

"Take me back," Annabeth repeated, the words sounding sure despite the fact that her heart was about to jump out her throat.

"I don't know," Percy said lightly. "Death might be preferable if you decide to take off on me again." His playful grin faltered on the last words and Annabeth saw how hard he was trying not to reveal how hurt he'd been.

She pushed herself up, placing her free palm on the other side of Percy's head, cadging him in with her body. She stared down at the loveable, handsome Seaweed Brain she had captured beneath her and decided this was one catch that she was never throwing back. He wasn't going anywhere. And, as a matter of fact, neither was she.

"I promise I will never leave you again," she pledged and meant it with every fiber of her being.

Percy reached up and ran a calloused hand through the wind-tangled curls cascading over her shoulder. "Swear on the Styx," he teased, his face illuminated by her favorite expression, the smile he reserved only for her.

"I swear on the Styx that I will never leave you. Romantically," she added quickly. She hoped the last part would allow her to run to the grocery store alone without keeling over dead. Being physically attached would be most inconvenient, but for now she didn't want to contemplate the consequences of her actions. She smirked down at him as he spluttered up at her.

"Annabeth, what did you just…" Percy was so flabbergasted at the enormity of what she'd just done that he couldn't even form a coherent sentence.

"Looks like you're stuck with me for good, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth grinned, lowering herself until their faces were only inches apart. "Though I suppose you could leave me, romantically speaking, if you wanted to…" she trailed off, realizing what a vulnerable position she'd placed herself in.

"Never," Percy interjected, tugging her arm out from underneath her. She landed flush on top of him with an ungraceful 'oomph.'

"Hey," Annabeth started to protest but was silenced as Percy's mouth finally, covered hers. Her hands tangled in his hair, drawing him closer. His arm encircled her waist removing any miniscule excess space between them.

Annabeth knew she should be clearly thinking through the ramifications of her rash promise. But really, it was incredibly difficult to care about anything with Percy's body warm underneath hers and his fingers splayed like that on the skin of her hip.

She found it hard to consider what her mother's reaction to their getting back together would be. It didn't even really cross her mind that she was going to have to make arrangements to transfer schools. She didn't even care that they were probably the prime time programming on Hephaestus TV right now.

After a few blissful minutes, Percy flipped them over so that he could eye her quizzically. He looked so ridiculously adorable trying to think with his ruffled hair and swollen lips.

"If you can't leave me without being sucked into the Styx…And I can't leave you without being sucked into the Styx," he said slowly, "then that means we're going to have to be together for the rest of our lives." He let this conclusion sit for a minute, planting a contemplative kiss on her lips. "Doesn't that make us kind of… engaged?"

"You can buy me a ring later," Annabeth said, fisting her hand into the fabric of his sweatshirt and meshing her mouth with his once more.

Yes, it was hard to care about much right now, even the fact that she had inadvertently wound up engaged to Percy Jackson. All that really seemed to matter was that Annabeth had finally found her way back to Percy.

The fire in her heart, the hearth reserved for the boy in her arms, the one that she had desperately tried to quash, now burned within her without limit.

She was home.

* * *

A/N: Well that's the end, folks! I hope you enjoyed the story. I was considering adding a sexy little epilogue but I'm kinda partial to it the way it is. Wish me good luck on my exams and leave a review!


	6. Epilogue

A/N: So, here's the epilogue I was talking about. I really struggled with this, for some reason, something seemed off. But I wrote it and I figured it would be a waste not to post it. Thank you to everyone who wished me well on my exams.

WARNING: This chapter earns its teen rating. Please keep in mind that the characters (who I do not own) are in a committed relationship and are older. Young ones, don't get any ideas.

* * *

**Swear on the Styx  
Epilogue: The Best Choice Ever**

"Put me down, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth growled dangerously.

"No," Percy replied cheerfully as he carried a bedraggled Annabeth down the dimly lit corridor to their small apartment. "You'll get blood on the carpet."

"Well, I wouldn't be bleeding if you weren't stupid enough to rush into a fight without armor," she retorted testily. She clutched her left arm to her chest. The wounded limb was currently staining her once pristine white button-up crimson. She wished she could hit Percy and have him feel it.

As it was, from her current position cradled bridal style against his chest, there wasn't much damage she could do. However, _something_ had to be done since this was the second battle Percy had carried her away from when she was perfectly capable of walking. It was going to put a dent in her formidable reputation if he kept this up. The other demigods might think she was going soft.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting to run into my old friend the Minotaur on my way to class this morning," Percy said sarcastically as he approached their weathered door. Annabeth reached down between them with her good arm and fished the key out of his jeans pocket. Percy grinned at her suggestively. Annabeth just rolled her eyes and undid the lock. Percy kicked the door open.

"It's not like I need armor anyway," he reasoned. "Stay here." He deposited her gently on the kitchen chair and rounded the wooden screen that separated the kitchen from their bedroom.

"Certain parts of you do," Annabeth reminded him darkly. "If that horn had come any closer to your…" she shook her frazzled ponytail and rose. She was about to make toward the sink when Percy returned, carrying their camp-issued first aid kit.

"Sit _down_," he commanded, placing a palm on Annabeth's head and pressing her back into her seat. Really, Annabeth thought, this was getting _ridiculous_. She could bind her own wounds.

"And it wasn't even close," Percy countered her previous statement. She glared at his back as he wet a clean cloth, using his powers to seduce water from the old and temperamental tap.

"Close enough," Annabeth muttered. And it _had_ been close; another six inches on the monster's one charge and Percy would have been shishkabobed right through his mortal point. Annabeth had thrown her left arm out wildly and ended up intercepting the blow with her skin.

"You were really worried, weren't you?" Percy stated incredulously as he sat down in the adjoining chair. He carefully wrapped his fingers around her wrist and began to clean her arm tenderly. He glanced up at her from underneath his ever unruly fringe to gauge her reaction.

"Yes," Annabeth admitted, finally allowing herself to feel the full weight of her fear. The knowledge of what might have been shook her, despite the fact that Percy was still alive and being his usual infuriating self. Really, she could take care of herself. She sagged back into the rickety chair with a sigh.

"I'm sorry," Percy said sincerely, placing a small kiss on her newly clean palm. Annabeth's skin tingled pleasantly where his lips had been. Percy set the cloth aside, rummaging through the wooden box for his next tools.

"We're almost out of ambrosia and nectar," Percy noted as he surveyed the kit. "I'll have to IM Chiron for more." He slid a bottle of the amber liquid across the table. Annabeth took the last swig of the godly drink as Percy dabbed salve on the sizable gash.

"I think you need armor more than I do," Percy said lightly, looking up meaningfully from his task.

"Of course," Annabeth drawled, "but I had just finished my interview when I looked out the window and saw sirens blaring toward campus. Somehow I just knew it was you in trouble." She had been right, of course. She'd sprinted the three blocks from the architecture firm she'd been attempting to get an internship at, already drawing her dagger out of her purse and trying to calculate how much of her movement would be limited by the heels and pencil skirt she was wearing. The outfit had been a gift from her stepmom and Annabeth really didn't have the heart to tell her that it had been ripped to shreds in a monster attack.

Percy knotted the white bandage and smiled at her. "We'll both try better next time," he said firmly, diffusing a potential argument. Annabeth half thought of pressing her point further but wasn't in the mood to argue right now.

"Thanks, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth said, holding her arm up for inspection. She noted that the silver cuff she wore on her injured wrist was dirty, she'd have to wash it before the blood got caked in the carvings.

She rose and moved toward the sink, frowning when the tap sprayed water at her when she turned it on. "I hope it doesn't scar," she commented, glancing at the binding as she rinsed the bracelet on her wrist free of gore while trying to keep the bandage dry.

She knew he was there, even before his palms skated up her thighs to grip her hips. His lips met her neck through a tear in the collar of the blouse. "I think your scars are sexy," he murmured.

"See if you're still saying that when I look like Ares," Annabeth snorted as Percy's calloused fingers traced the faint pink line on her hand, the result of a fight with the Hydra their sophomore year.

"Trust me, you could never look like Ares," he assured her emphatically. His mouth found the hollow behind her ear and Percy was rewarded by a slight gasp.

"You know, people are starting to wonder if you beat me," Annabeth informed him casually, revolving slowly to face him. Percy leant his arms on either side of the counter, mischievously trapping her against him. "It is kind of suspicious when I come to class at least once a month bruised and bandaged."

"What do you tell them?" Percy asked curiously, pressing a kiss to each individual finger of the bandaged arm that she had held up to demonstrate her point.

"I tell them I was attacked by a monster. They just assume it was you," Annabeth smirked.

"You do not," Percy grinned. He lifted her off of her feet as she laughed, setting her on the ugly yellow Formica countertop.

"No," Annabeth admitted, "but it's fun to think about." Percy scooted her closer to the edge of the counter, settling himself comfortably between her knees. Annabeth mapped the path of a tendon in his neck, gazing down at him.

"Wise Girl?" he said after a moment, meeting her darkened gray eyes. "Why don't you wear the ring more often?" Annabeth frowned, her hand freezing its current trek through his fabulously mussed up hair.

"My cuff never bothered you before." She watched as her fiancée drew her left arm toward his chest. Percy pressed the small catch that released the fitted metal band from her wrist.

The masterfully engraved cuff had been custom created for Annabeth by Tyson. The celestial bronze bracelet had a reinforced glass compartment which housed her delicate diamond and pearl engagement ring. Annabeth had requested the piece after she almost lost the ring during a particularly nasty fight with a giant.

She watched in confusion as Percy slid the winking band onto her bruised finger, his feather light touch conflicting with his heavily furrowed brow. His behavior was…odd. Usually, Percy was relatively simple to read. He always said exactly what he thought when he thought it. His speech, like most of his actions, was impulsive. Percy wasn't the type to dwell in long contemplative silences. Annabeth found she disliked the wait.

"I never realized that people don't realize what it means," he divulged after a moment with a deceptive shrug. His eyes met hers, piercing and dark. "They don't see the ring in the bracelet and understand," he tried to clarify. "But everyone knows what it means on your finger."

Percy ducked his head again, his face redder in embarrassment than she'd seen it since they'd been teenagers. "Everyone we know knows we're engaged, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth said gently, tracing his worry lines.

"Strangers don't," he replied shortly. "And I don't really appreciate weird men looking at you like that."

Annabeth let out a laugh laden with disbelief, finally understanding. "Percy, even _you_ would stare at a girl who was soaking wet, wearing a ripped up blouse and skirt that leave very little to the imagination." Percy's hand splayed on the tanned thigh bared by the aforementioned rip up her skirt.

Annabeth grinned down at him. "I couldn't help being in line of the fire hydrant spray when the Minotaur ran into it. But, I'll invest in pantsuits in the future, if it'll make you feel more secure."

She fisted a hand in the collar of his t-shirt and tugged him up toward her, her legs wrapping around his waist. Her mouth slid over his slowly, evocatively.

"There may be plenty of fish in the sea, but there's only one Seaweed Brain. Understand?" Annabeth quipped, her tone reminiscent of the many strategy lectures she had given him during their camp days.

Percy meshed their lips together once more, his hands molding to the shape of the sensitive skin of her sides. His lips danced from hers down the column of her throat, gently sucking at the junction of her neck and shoulder, making her shudder against him. Annabeth retaliated by pulling him against her with her legs, which garnered a low sigh against her goosebumped flesh.

"This really is a good look for you," he muttered. He lifted her off of the counter, sliding her down his body and to her feet.

Annabeth quirked an eyebrow as Percy's hands fisted in the remaining fabric of her blouse and pulled. The poor excuse for a garment gave way easily with a pathetic rip, buttons flying in every direction of the small kitchen. Percy eased the remains off of her shoulders, leaving Annabeth clad in nothing but her sensible white bra.

"I like this one better," Percy affirmed. She could feel his smile when he kissed her.

"Really?" Annabeth returned playfully, her hands clinging to the navy fabric of his perfectly salvageable t-shirt. Two could play at this game. She tugged, delightfully peeling away the now ruined shirt to reveal her fiancé's delectable chest.

She looked up at Percy from underneath her lashes, her nails lightly scraping the newly exposed territory. "I like this look better too. And Percy," she added, standing up on tiptoes to place her lips right next to his ear, "you smell like Minotaur."

She shoved him away gently, laughter already bubbling out of her throat as she sprinted toward the bathroom, only to be thwarted when his arms wrapped around her waist. He hoisted her hostage against him, ignoring her protests.

"You don't smell like Persephone's garden yourself," Percy returned, skillfully keeping her from escaping despite her struggles.

Annabeth stilled, turning her head to look at him. "And what do you propose we do, genius?" She was unable to squash the Cheshire cat grin that blossomed on her face at his response.

"Why shower, of course." Annabeth bit her lip and allowed herself to be carried, just this once, to the bathroom. Because it was always something to experience when water and a Son of Poseidon were involved.

* * *

"You know, I wasn't that worried about those guys looking at you," Percy muttered hours later. His hand stroked absentmindedly through her tousled curls, splayed across his chest.

"Hmmm?" Annabeth hummed, the sound vibrating against his skin. Her eyes were fixed on the hand that rested on his chest. Her engagement ring glinted happily, reflecting the colorful city lights filtering in from the small window.

"I would kind of know if you cheated on me," Percy continued lightheartedly. "I mean, you'd drop dead."

Annabeth raised herself up to scowl down at his lopsided grin. "That wasn't a note of hope I heard in your voice, was it Jackson?" Percy pressed a tender kiss to her jaw.

"No. That was just an observation," Percy defended himself. His expression turned serious, forcing Annabeth to pause in her retort.

"I think that swearing on the Styx was the best decision you ever made. Personally," he added when Annabeth opened her mouth to embark on the usual tirade of good decisions she'd made over the years, most of them involving her somehow saving his 'sorry ass.'

"Well, we're still stuck with each other," Annabeth sighed, resuming her previous resting position. Percy would have been hurt had he not felt the curve of her lips, warm against his skin.

"Forever," Percy added with a longsuffering sigh which earned him a smack from the woman in his arms. Not that he could feel it, but the soft exclamation that followed it meant that she had.

"Goodnight, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth said sleepily, her hand trailing down his arm to twine her finger with his. "Don't drool on me."

Annabeth allowed her eyes to drift closed as Percy murmured a reply, his thumb brushing gently over the ring finger of her left hand before he stilled.

Lying there, listening to his heart beat strong and steady beneath her ear, Annabeth couldn't help but think that Percy was, for once, right. While, swearing on the river hadn't been the best tactical move on her part, it was, without a doubt the best decision she had ever made.

Not that she would ever tell him that.

But then again, Annabeth had the nagging feeling that he already knew she agreed. Even if he was a Seaweed Brain.

* * *

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone for reading! Please leave a review as a parting gift for me!


End file.
